


A Wizard Walks into a Magic Box

by Highlander_II



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Community: intoabar, Gen, The Magic Box, made up magic ingredient names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-05 23:36:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14629404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highlander_II/pseuds/Highlander_II
Summary: Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden goes into a bar and meets... Anya Christina Emanuella Jenkins





	A Wizard Walks into a Magic Box

I'm not sure why Ramirez wanted to meet me here. There's something _off_ about this town. I can't quite put my finger on it though. It's an energy or something. It makes my neck prickle.

And that's just since getting off the train. Ramirez is supposed to pick me up here, but I don't see him yet. I supposed if he caught traffic out of LA that would explain it.

For now, I'll amuse myself by sitting here reading the paperback I started on the train. I read fast and made it through all of one book and part of this one. Depending on how long it takes Ramirez to get here, I might need to buy a new one before I leave.

Ramirez pulled up about twenty minutes later and helped load me into his car. We're now on our way across town to the place Ramirez wanted to go. Which turns out to be a... magic shop?

"Carlos - "

He just grins at me and gets out of the car. Did I mention Ramirez drives a convertible?

I follow, but I'm still not sure what's going on. Sure, there are occult shops in Chicago - ones I use even, sometimes - but they're not typically so blatantly named. 'The Magic Box' sounds more like they sell to stage magicians. (Which I have no problems with, my father was a stage magician.) Not to grumpy wizards.

A bell jingles over the door as we walk in. A moment later an aggressively falsely cheerful woman approaches us with a greeting of, "Welcome to the Magic Box! Can I help you spend your money?"

It's a little odd, but almost endearing. In a run and hide sort of way. I start to say something, but Ramirez beats me to the punch and asks about an item he's been shopping for. I let him conduct his business while I have a look around.

They have some interesting items on hand. A few I haven't been able to find in Chicago even. I may have to do some shopping of my own.

I make my way toward the till where Ramirez is wrapping up.

The woman behind the counter glances up at me, then asks, "Are you interested in making any purchases?"

Her manner is blunt, yet aggressive. "Maybe," I tell her. I'm not sure yet. But, "How well does the mulder root travel?" (No, I don't know how it got that name - I haven't looked into it.)

She pulls a face that tells me 'proceed at your own peril,' before she says, "But if you have a lead and uranium-lined box, it does very well." And she offers a smile.

"Fresh out of radioactive boxes. But, do you know of a supplier closer to Chicago?" I ask. I could use the mulder root for a few things I've been wanting to try.

She frowns at me. "You don't want to purchase it from me?"

I blink. This woman is beyond strange. "I would if it came with a free box to transport it back to Chicago. Where I live."

"Oh, well, you can't have our box. But I'll get you the name of the guy we get it from. He might know someone."

"Thank you." I'm not really that pressed for it. Don't even know if I can afford it. But, at this point, I think it's better not to ask.

While she's wrangling up a name, I take another look around the shop. This place is pretty well-stocked. It's kind of amazing. I often have to special order back home. I wouldn't be surprised if some of my things had come from here.

The woman comes back with a business card for me. I also think she just now realized how tall I am, because the next thing she says is, "Wow, you are really tall."

"So I've heard."

"Can you help me get something down from the top shelf over here?"

I would sigh, but she seems so earnest. And very odd.

I look over my shoulder to see what Ramirez is up to and find him giggling into the crook of his elbow. He's trying to play it off like a cough. Bastard.

"Sure," I tell her. "What do you need?"

She leads me to a high shelf indeed. Damn. Why do they need anything perched that close to the ceiling?

"The fertility goddess there in the corner. I have a customer coming to pick it up this afternoon."

I glance at the statue, then to the shopkeeper. Back to the statue and I lift up on my toes - I haven't had to do that since grade school - perch my free hand on top of the nearby bookshelf, and reach for the item in question.

If not for my long fingers, even I wouldn't have been able to get the damned thing down without a step-stool. Before I bring it fullly off the shelf, I turn to the shopkeeper. "Are you sure this isn't up here for a good reason?"

"What?" she asks, almost insulted.

"It's a fertility goddess statue that's been put on the most inaccessible shelf in the store. Maybe there's a reason for that," I tell her.

Her brow bends in a frown. "Do you think I'm stupid?" she asks. Before I can reply, she adds, "I know what I'm doing. I know what the 'bad' things are. I was a vengeance demon for over a thousand years. Just get the statue down for me." Her voice had gotten shrill.

"Anya," I hear from the till. A particularly British-sounding man with a bit of a chastising tone. "Please don't shriek at the customers."

"I wasn't shrieking," she protests. "I just needed something from this shelf." This time it's a bit of a huff.

The British man moves in our direction. "That's Anahita. Why are you getting it down?"

"A customer wants to buy it."

"Oh. Well, that's all right then. Carry on." Then he walks away, completely unperturbed by the exchange. This place is so very strange. And I say this as someone who's seen a lot of strange shit.

I turn my attention back to taking the statue from the shelf. "Anahita - she's Prussian?" I hand the goddess to her.

"Yes. She sometimes gets confused with Ishtar." Anya happily takes the figure and heads back to the till.

I could talk more about the fertility goddess, but something else caught my attention. "You said you were a demon for a thousand years?"

Anya looked up from the counter where she'd been writing up a sales ticket. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

"Um, no. I was curious how you stopped being a demon." Primarily without dying, as that is the usual course of events.

"I wasn't always a demon. I used to be human before. A long time ago. Then I was elevated. Wreaked vengeance for a bit over a thousand years, then lost my power, so now I'm human again," she explained.

"That sounds like a small part of a much larger story," I say. "Do I want to ask what sort of vengeance you did?"

"Only if you like to hear about the suffering of horrible boyfriends," she says flatly, having gone back to writing the sales ticket.

"Only boyfriends?"

"We all have our niche."

"And yours was bad boyfriends?"

"They deserved it. They would do horrible things to women and needed to suffer."

I should quit while I'm ahead, but morbid curiosity has me pressing on anyway. No one ever said I was that bright. "So you spent a thousand years killing these men?" I'm assuming deaths happened here, since that's usually how demons roll.

She looks up at me again, face hard. "Not all of them. Some were turned into trolls. Or shrimp. Or slugs. It really was all dependent on what the women wanted. They picked the punishment. I was just there to execute it."

"How does that work?" I know. I know.

"They would make a wish. I would grant it. It's all pretty simple really." Anya sighed. "But I don't do it anymore. So, unless you're the demon police..."

"Well, I kind of am."

"Oh balls. You're a wizard."

"Yeah. But I'm not here for you." I hold up my hands. "If you're reformed, and human, if you're not throwing dark magic around, I've got no beef with you."

"A white knight who's not half moron. That's new," she snorts.

"I think I'm not the only one. Anyway, pleasure to meet you, Anya. I'm Harry." I put out a hand to shake. I really have no interest in 'arresting' her for anything. Glass houses and stones and all of that.

She meets my hand. "You're not going to haul me in?"

I shake my head. "For what? Aggressive salesmanship? Being blunt? You're human. Puts you out of my jurisdiction unless you start in on the dark magic."

"Good to know. Now, buy something or go away."

"Anya," comes the British chastising again.

I laugh though. Her straightforwardness doesn't bother me. "I might hit you up for that mulder root once I get myself a transport box."

As I turn to find Ramirez and leave, I catch the shocked and concerned look on the British man's face. He probably thinks I'm going to end the world. But there really are some nifty things you can do with mulder root that won't end the world. You just have to be very careful in your preparations.

I clap Ramirez on the shoulder. "Let's go. You promised me lunch."


End file.
